King Of The Beach

The music blasts out the window as we speed down the highway. We zoom past the

streetlamps and yell out the lyrics to our favourite songs. My hair flows out of the car and into the wind, flying. I peel my seatbelt off and turn the radio up louder. The car is booming and we honk at the truck trailing behind us. “You’re never gonna stop us.” All I can hear is my heartbeat. It is 3:06 in the morning and we are driving back from a Halsey concert, covered in sweat and tears. I taste the salty air. The sky is dark blue, with the light hum of the city in the distance. The lace is ripping off my shirt with the strings of black turning into a fringe. The rearview mirror reveals a tired, teenage girl, but she

is glowing. I throw my bandana onto the road and watch it scream under a tire. Lighting my friend’s cigarette, we turn the stereo lower and laugh. The road trip has just begun.